interesting conversation with his hosts, and, describing the terrors of the late storm which had driven him under their friendly roof, proceeded to relate, that as he passed along the banks of the Medway, he had been greatly surprised by the singular appearance of a deep blue light, flashing from the west turret of the great Tower of Rochester Castle, commonly called Gundulph's Tower, and, notwithstanding the heavy gloom which uni versally prevailed, the torrents of rain which were borne with violence against the building; and the whirlwind which swept almost every other object before it, the flame still issued with a dazzling and steady brightness, or sometimes sporting round the dark and massy sides of the structure, would spring thence in every direction, and play, as it were, upon the bosom of the storm, Attracted by this phenomenon, and regardless of the elemental war which surrounded him, he had watched it; he continued, for some time, when his attention was eagerly diverted by sounds, wild and plaintive, beyond what he had ever heard; now, in tones sweet as those of an Eolian harp, they seemed to float beside him; now, wandering along the perturbed surface

of the Medway, they swelled into notes of agony and horror, or, borne on the distant wind, died in shrieks of lamentation and distress; it was no earthly music, he said; the ears tingle with dread, the hair involuntarily arises, and the dews of death bathe him who long listens to such strains. I passed on, he concluded, my attendants almost panic-struck with fear, to reach your hospitable gates, and shall only say, that you will add a considerable obligation to those you have already so liberally conferred, by information as to the cause of the extraordinary circumstances I have witnessed this night.

During this description, which was rendered more effective by the forcible and impressive manner of the stranger, his auditors seemed absorbed in the most painful and melancholy reflections, and some time elapsed before the Superior had power to gratify the curiosity of his guest. At length, suppressing his emotions, he thus addressed him.

"You will not wonder, O Knight, at the sorrow your relation has occasioned, when I

inform you, that the strange events you have described, were intimately connected with the loss of two of the worthiest men of our order, who perished in the vigour of life, fruitlessly attempting the rescue of innocence and beauty. More than six years have now passed, since the light which you saw with so much astonishment first made its appearance on Gundulph's Tower, and from that time nightly has it been seen, an object of horrour and of mystery to the country round. Its origin and the preternatural circumstances which attend it, have been publickly attributed to the Constable of the Castle, Robert De Weldon, a man whose ferocious manners and boundless ambition, whose magical arts and supposed connection with the world of spirits, have rendered the aver sion of all within his sphere. It is said, that in a secret apartment of that turret from whence the illumination proceeds, he confines, in a state of apparent insensibility, and through the influence of superhuman agency, two amiable young people, a Lady and her Lover, who were affianced to each other, and who, it is conjectured, were obstacles to the Constable's attainment of pro

perty or power. The prevalent idea is, that they are placed on a magnificent couch, in a profound and death-like sleep, and that between them lies a gigantic sword, which, whoever succeeds in drawing from its sheath, restores the lovers to consciousness and liberty.* The Constable, however, disavows himself as the author of this infernal deed, and some years ago issued a proclamation, offering free admission to the Castle for any knight, who would attempt the rescue of the injured pair, the impediments to which, it is reported, are portentous and preternatural, beyond the powers of imagination to body forth. It is the general belief, however, notwithstanding the assertion of De Weldon, that he is under an obligation to the Beings whom he employs, and under the penalty of the most dreadful torments, not to refuse any knight who shall offer to undertake the adventure, whilst, at the same time, he himself is to abide the unknown result of the disenchantment.

* A tradition to this effect still exists at Rochester, and which, being mentioned to the author in conversation, gave birth to the present narrative.

"Whatever truth there may be in these surmises, it is but too certain, that the melancholy result of the attempts which have been made, has highly gratified those malignant passions and that thirst for human blood, which are so well known to rage in the bosom of De Weldon. Already have five gallant knights fallen a sacrifice to their intrepidity and love of enterprise, and it is not without the most poignant grief I repeat, that of these the two earliest were, as I have mentioned, members of our society; the ornaments, indeed, of our order, and beloved by all who knew them. Never will the night on which our first unfortunate com panion undertook this adventure, be erased from my memory; we had anxiously waited his return, listening with an eager curiosity for the approach of his footsteps; the moon shone with unclouded lustre, not a breath of air dimpled the surface of the Medway, and the glow-worms spread their yellow gems like diamonds on the grass. It was now on the verge of midnight; we were walking in yonder grove, and remarking the peculiar brilliancy of the evening star, when suddenly